


the most tender place in my heart is for strangers

by meronicavars



Series: loving you alone [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/F, MAJOR WARNING for lee's miscarriage, a wee bit of internalized lesbophobia, bisexual lee thompkins, homophobic parent, lesbian sofia falcone, rampant lesbianism, season 3 background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 22:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16689808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meronicavars/pseuds/meronicavars
Summary: The first time Sofia Falcone sees Lee Thompkins, she’s walking past a diner and sees Lee eating pancakes. She doesn’t know who she is. She takes a moment to let the attraction settle and continues on. She doesn’t flirt with women in broad daylight.





	the most tender place in my heart is for strangers

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is like... a how they got together to my other sofialee fic and is going to be a series. this is from sofia's pov and i think the rest of the series will be her pov as well, idk we'll see. 
> 
> anyway i'm terrible at tagging, i'm sorry.

The first time Sofia Falcone sees Lee Thompkins, she’s walking past a diner and sees Lee eating pancakes. She doesn’t know who she is. She takes a moment to let the attraction settle and continues on. She doesn’t flirt with women in broad daylight. 

Her father calls her later the same day, says Sofia should bring flowers to Dr. Leslie Thompkins, who’s just moved down south and could likely use the kindness. As a courtesy to Jim Gordon, he says, a courtesy to Gotham. 

Sofia isn’t prone to kindness or niceties, but she sighs and goes to a florist to ask for a bouquet that manages to say “I’m sorry your fiancé is in prison and you’re alone and pregnant in Florida”. She leaves a note with her name and number and has the bouquet sent over to Thompkins immediately. 

Sofia isn’t sure how this woman would react to receiving flowers from a Falcone, knowing she’s from Gotham, but she also doesn’t care that much. Leaving her phone number seems like the friendly thing to do, knowing Thompkins likely doesn’t know anyone else here and she could probably use someone to talk to. Even if that someone is, as people like to call her, cold, like Sofia is. 

It’s in the evening she gets the call. She’s sitting alone in front of the unlit fireplace, drinking wine, when the phone rings. A maid answers it and promptly brings the phone over to her, long cord dragging across the floor. 

“Dr. Thompkins, miss,” she says, setting the phone down on the floor next to Sofia and handing her the receiver.

She takes it with a silent ‘thank you’ and speaks to Lee Thompkins for the first time.

“Dr. Thompkins!” She says, much more enthusiastically than she’s wont to be. “How nice of you to call.”

“Lee,” Thompkins says. “Everyone calls me ‘Lee’.”

“Lee, of course,” Sofia says, pressing a fake smile against phone. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to have tea tomorrow,” Lee says. “At my apartment. I have a few days to kill before I start my new job. I thought it might be nice. To thank you.”

“That would be lovely,” Sofia replies.

 

Lee looks tired, frazzled, in an oversized black long sleeved shirt, buzzing about the kitchen, preparing the tea. Sofia just thinks she’s breathtaking, taken aback that it’s the same woman from the diner. Sofia knows if she’d been anyone else… or at least someone  _ out _ , she would’ve walked right into that diner, right up to Lee, and asked her out. When she’s able to lay low and get to a club, she’s usually very forthright, generally only looking for sex,--she certainly isn’t a relationship person--but to be out in the open is a different experience. 

Anyway, Lee seems to be a straight woman. A pregnant straight woman, for that matter. Sofia can’t take her eyes off her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lee says, a hint of self-deprecating laughter in her voice, as she pulls the whistling kettle off the burner before the sound gets unbearable. “This place is barely big enough for one person, let alone a person expecting a baby.”

“You’re right,” Sofia says, smirking. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Lee pours their tea and laughs. 

“I’m sure I’ll find somewhere more comfortable in the coming months,” Lee says, serving the tea, and sitting down at the table across from Sofia. “But I honestly don’t even know how long I’ll be here. I don’t really plan on going back to Gotham anytime soon though.”

“Thank you,” Sofia whispers, taking her mug of tea and blowing on it. “You know, we could’ve had tea at my place. I’m sure it could fit at least a dozen of you.”

“I had no idea Carmine Falcone had children,” Lee says, and Sofia looks up, brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, that was a little sudden, but I had to mention it.”

“It’s fine,” Sofia says. “It’s me and my brother Mario. He’s off somewhere being a hero right now. Doctors Without Borders.”

“Well, I’m sure he and I will have plenty to talk about,” Lee says. “When he returns, of course.”

“He’s nicer than me, that’s for certain,” Sofia says, casually, sipping her tea slowly. “I think Daddy’s happy he didn’t end up in the business.”

“Because you’re such a gangster,” Lee teases, offering a plate of shortbread.

“But you’re from Gotham,” Sofia says, taking a piece of shortbread and breaking it in half. “You know as well as anyone, that a gangster can really look like anything.”

“So, you are a gangster,” Lee says. “I apologize, that’s my mistake.”

“I think, technically, I’m a socialite,” Sofia says. “I just live off mob money, in my father’s mob mansion, and I have to meet an array of my father’s mob men.”

“Sounds exciting,” Lee says, grinning, taking her own piece of shortbread.

“Hardly,” Sofia says. “I think Daddy wants to marry me off to the highest bidder.”

“And you’re not interested?” 

Sofia presses her lips together in a thin line, says quietly, “no.”

 

“Are you gonna come out to her?” Tara says, pulling her clothes back on.

Sofia stretches out, sore and refreshed from having been fucked raw into the mattress, and hums undecidedly. 

She has a standing weekly appointment with Tara, an easy exchange of sex and mob information; so, it would seem simple, but she’s probably the only person who actually has any inkling of who Sofia Falcone  _ really is _ , outside of the gang heiress celebutante.

“It might be nice to have a friend,” Tara points out and sits down to slip her heels back on. 

“I have you, don’t I?” Sofia says, only somewhat seriously.

“I mean someone who isn’t involved with the mob and who you’re not having sex with, Sofia,” Tara says, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh,  _ that’s _ what a friend is?” Sofia gasps, sitting up. “I have plenty of those.”

“Not the people you socialize with at the races,” Tara says. “Don’t be stubborn, Sofe, I can’t be the only person in your life you actually more than tolerate.”

“Well, if I stop being attracted to her after a week, then I suppose Lee Thompkins and I can be friends,” Sofia says. “But if not, then it would be intolerable.”

“Is she  _ that _ heterosexual?” Tara laughs.

“Could be.”

“Just tell her you’re gay and have no friends, straight people love that crap,” Tara says and Sofia snorts, falling back on the bed. “And I mean, she was with that Jim Gordon guy, right? I’ve seen pictures of him. I really get a ‘I wanna get dicked down by a guy with a moustache” vibe off him.”

“He seems straighter than her!”

“No way,” Tara says. “That is the face of a man who wears leather and listens to Judy Garland in his spare time.”

“You really get all that from newspaper photographs?”

“Wouldn’t have a steady roll of gang money if I couldn’t size people up,” Tara says and crawls over to Sofia and kisses her quick. “Picture’s worth a thousand words, Sofia.”

“I’ll see you next week,” Sofia smirks, and pulls Tara down to kiss her again.

“Not if you’ve seduced the straight pregnant lady,” Tara replies and hops up and heads out.

 

Weeks pass, but Sofia doesn’t come out to Lee. Well, she does all but. She showers her in gifts, she takes her out on her own dime, she calls her constantly. Weeks of being painfully obvious about her infatuation and Lee only seems all too grateful to have a friend. To be fair, Sofia isn’t prone to frivolous spending, so the gifts  _ are _ modest; it’s just the sheer amount of them. A necklace here, a dress there, and Lee seems to be none-the-wiser. 

It comes to a head of course, as things often do for the passionate lovestruck Lesbian. 

Sofia buys Lee a watch. A gold, diamond encrusted watch which cost a pretty penny and Sofia watches as Lee’s breath is taken away. 

They’re sitting out on the back patio of the Falcone estate, overlooking the sea. It’s evening, getting dark, and Lee’s face is lit up bright by the candle on the table and the fairy lights surrounding them. Sofia is sipping red wine while Lee’s trying to get in as much water as possible day to day, since her baby bump is much more prominent.

“I can’t accept this,” Lee says, refusing to even touch the watch, leaving it safely in its box.

“Please,” Sofia says, earnestly, placing her glass on the table and leaning forward. “I saw it and I just  _ had _ to get it. It made me think of you.”

“I  _ can’t _ ,” Lee says. “The other gifts were--”

“Cheap?” Sofia supplies, and Lee looks at her horrified.

“That isn’t what I was going to say.”

“You’ve accepted my hospitality thus far,” Sofia says. “I don’t see why this is any different.”

“This isn’t hospitality, Sofia, these are  _ real _ diamonds,” Lee says. 

“So?”

Lee says nothing, and closes the box, pushing the watch back towards Sofia.

Sofia’s heart had already dropped, but she can feel it fall even further, and she finally lets it show.

“I understand,” she says, and takes the box back, sweeping her thumb over the blue velvet. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Lee says.

“What?”

“We spend days together and you buy me things,” Lee pauses, and gets up, moves a chair over and sits next to Sofia rather than across from her. “This is out of the blue. This is… expensive. This isn’t hospitality. You’re hiding yourself behind material kindness.”

“I’ve been extremely up front with you about my life,” Sofia starts and tries to continue but Lee cuts her off.

“Have you?” Lee smiles sadly at her, touches her hand on top of the watch box. “Do you want to be my friend?”

“Of course, I do. How can you even ask me that?”

“Then can you be honest with me?” She curls her hand around Sofia’s now, and Sofia’s heart stops. 

She could take the easy way out and be cold and tell Lee all of this is because her father told her to be kind, and this is the only way she knows how to show kindness. A half truth to save herself, but instead Sofia goes so silent, she can’t even hear her own thoughts. She tries to speak, but  _ can’t _ . She looks at Lee pleadingly.

“Oh, Sofia,” Lee breathes, and shifts forward, placing one hand on Sofia’s cheek, the other left tightly around her hand.

She kisses Sofia. She kisses her, she kisses her, she kisses her, and Sofia can’t breathe. Suddenly overcome with fright that Lee knows all her deepest secrets from the simplest intimacy, Sofia freezes and only lets her lips tremble beneath Lee’s.

Lee pulls away.

“Good night,” she says, and leaves.

Sofia doesn’t watch Lee walk away. She looks out at the uncharacteristically calm ocean and thanks God she’ll be overseas for the next two weeks.

 

It’s a business trip. She meets up with Tara in London and stays for a day. They fuck and go sightseeing, and drink cheap cider in the hotel room. Tara asks about Lee and Sofia doesn’t tell her about the kiss. 

The next stop is Paris for a gallery opening with her father. Sofia’s not even sure why her father wants her there. His appearance is usually enough, especially for business relations. A villa turned art gallery full of international criminals all with hands in each other’s pockets, and Sofia’s certain her father doesn’t need her to rub elbows with them when he’s perfectly good at doing that on his own. 

She wears a simple pinstripe suit, trying to remain casual, trying to blend into the background, but her father pulls her by the arm and thrusts her into a conversation with one of his contacts. 30ish, English, suave, in his own pinstripe suit and he makes a joke about their matching attire. 

Sofia laughs kindly, forcing a charmed smile, realizing this is a forced meetcute. He’s nice enough and gay enough, she can hold a reasonable conversation with him, but Sofia seethes knowing her father lured her to France just to set her up with a clearly unavailable con. And Sofia knows herself--a marriage of convenience isn’t in the cards for her. 

Finally, she’s able to slip away and pull her father to the side and snap at him, hiding the anger with a smile.

“What was that?” she says, as her father hands her a glass of champagne.

“What?”

“That man,” she replies. “All the way to Paris just to meet a man.”

“Reginald is a very nice man,” he says. “And very rich.”

“ _ I’m _ very rich, Daddy,” Sofia says. “I don’t need his assets.”

“Oh, come, Sofia, just  _ talk _ to him.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Oh, Father, you really don’t know anything about me,” Sofia sighs.

“You’re my  _ daughter _ \--”

“I hate champagne,” Sofia says, and shoves the glass back into his hand, bubbles splashing from the glass onto his tie.

Sofia simply walks away and goes off to look at some art. 

She stands with hands in her pockets looking up at a small oil painting. A nude.

“Enjoying this one?” A voice says from behind her.

“Enjoying the breasts,” Sofia jokes.

“I gathered,” the woman says. “From the way you’re so intently staring at them.”

Sofia looks over and sees a crew cut and a wrinkly suit, warm brown eyes giving their own intent look to her. 

“You like it too?” Sofia asks, sweeps her gaze down the butch’s body and back up.

“I guess,” she shrugs, runs a hand over her short hair. “I painted it.”

Sofia grins, “painting of a lover?”

“Who knows?” she says. “It’s about the mystery.”

“Ah, I like mystery,” says Sofia.

“You don’t wanna know my name then?” she raises an eyebrow.

“I got it,” Sofia says, tapping the nameplate beside the painting reading TAM.

“What about yours?”

“Sofia.”

They find an abandoned hallway to makeout in. Sofia lets Tam push her up against the wall, dusty with drywall, beside some scaffolding. There’s ongoing construction, separate from the rest of the gallery and the party now a quiet din in the distance of the halls. 

Sofia gets lost for a bit in Tam’s mouth, licking at her bottom lip and then sucking it between her teeth. She gasps against Tam’s tongue when she feels a hand press the front of her pants. She reaches down and undoes the button and zipper so Tam can slide her fingers against Sofia’s underwear. 

“Sofia!”

It’s her father. Voice booming, angry.

Sofia pushes Tam off her and scrambles to do her pants back up. 

“Daddy,” she says, in a small voice, wrapping her arms around herself when her clothes are back in order.

Her father looks between them. He doesn’t have to say anything for Sofia to know just what he’s thinking, he merely needs to look at her. All disgust and disappointment in his eyes clear as day. 

“Go talk to Reginald,” he says. “And we’ll forget this ever happened.”

Sofia stiffens, drops her arms to her sides, and nods.

He walks off.

“Are you okay?” Tam asks.

She touches Sofia’s arm, and Sofia pulls away.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sofia says, walking off, shaking drywall from her hair. “Let’s go.”

 

Back at the party, Sofia talks to Reginald Rich. She slides up beside him, two glasses of champagne in hand, forces the bubbly down, and hands one glass to Rich. 

“Mr. Rich,” she says, plastering a smile on her face. 

“My friends call me Reggie, actually,” he replies. 

“Then we’re friends,” Sofia says. “Tell me, Reggie, when are you heading back to England?”

“Tomorrow morning I return to London,” he sips his champagne and then tips the glass ahead of him. “I have business to attend to with that man.”

Sofia follows where Reggie’s gesturing to a tall man across the room. 

“Business?” Sofia raises her eyebrow. 

“Business,” Reggie says, and sighs.

“Well, we must have lunch when I’m in London next week,” Sofia says.

“We must,” Reggie replies. “I’ll show you where I get my pinstripe suits.”

“Excellent!” Sofia grins. “Daddy will be happy to see me make nice with someone.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a set up,” Reggie says, smirking. “You know, to see our wealth romantically merged.”

“I’m not looking for a husband,” Sofia says, sighing, rolling her eyes. 

Reggie leans in close and whispers, “well, I am.”

“I thought so,” Sofia nods. “We’ll have plenty to talk about next week.”

“I should hope so,” Reggie says, and holds out his hand. “I should be going, but it’s been a pleasure to meet you, Sofia Falcone.”

“And you, Reggie Rich,” Sofia replies, shaking his hand. 

“Your father has my number. Make sure you call.”

Sofia smiles, and watches Reggie make his way across the room to the man he’d pointed to before. He whispers to him a moment, small smiles being shared between them, and then they head toward the foyer.

 

The Falcones have a house in Paris, but Sofia opted to stay at a hotel, knowing she’d need the space from her father. She especially does now. She’s exhausted, angry, embarrassed with herself for being so reckless. And she’s always been a little reckless, but never with her father so close. She has an implicit proud defiance against her father, needing it to survive, but the shame runs just as deep. It burns through her as she tiredly opens the door to her hotel room, throws her heels off, and drags her feet across the floor. Guilt, no, but the shame…

She calls her voicemail and settles back on the bed.

Lee’s voice, panicked, crying, comes through the cellphone and Sofia sits up on high alert.

“I-I need you to come home,” there’s a pause, where Lee suppresses a sob. “The baby, I… I lost--”

Sofia hangs up and immediately calls Lee back. She turns on the speaker and throws her phone down on the bed, as she gets up to grab her suitcase.

“Sofia?” Lee’s voice cracks on the other end of the phone.

“I’m packing up right now,” Sofia calls out from where she’s stripping and throwing her clothes in the suitcase. “I dunno how long I’ll be, but I’m gonna hijack daddy’s private jet.”

“Okay,” Lee whispers.

She sounds dead, broken.

“I’m coming home, Lee,” Sofia says. 

“Hurry.”

“I will,” Sofia pulls on the most comfortable clothes she can get her hands on. “Where are you?”

“The hospital,” Lee replies. “I have to stay a few days. I fell.”

“I’ll come to you as soon as I land,” she sighs, pauses. “Hang in there.”

Her next call is to Tara.

“Hey, I’m not coming back to London.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Lee’s had an emergency, I need to get back stateside ASAP.”

“Sofia, always a sucker for the straight girl.”

“I don’t think she’s straight.”

“What?”

“She kissed me. Before I left, she kissed me.”

“Wait, Sofia, that’s great. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t… didn’t wanna think about it. But it doesn’t matter, Lee had a miscarriage, I--”

“Jesus, is she okay?”

“No, she’s obviously not fucking okay, Tara,” Sofia snaps, slamming her suitcase shut and aggressively zipping it up.

“I mean physically, Sofia,” Tara says calmly. “No one would be okay.”

“I don’t know,” Sofia sobers, says quietly, “She said she fell.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“No, I’m leaving right now. I’ll call you from Miami.”

 

When Sofia gets on the jet, she takes a couple pills, and sleeps the entire flight.

She gets in in the early hours of the morning. It’s still dark, moon hanging low, there’s a sea chill in the air. Sofia rushes to the hospital, bribes the nurses with cash and coffee to let her into Lee’s room. She feigns the beginnings of a panic attack to seal the deal--something she’s had enough practice with at her father’s expense. A nurse takes pity, slips her a pill for her nerves, and when she hands Sofia a bottle of water and lets her into Les’s room, her eyes are knowing. She gives her a nod and points to the chair across the room. Sofia says a silent thank you and finally goes to Lee’s bedside.

“I haven’t slept,” Lee says, her voice raw and tired.

She’s turned away from the door, but facing Sofia now in that uncomfortable and scratchy chair. Her eyes starkly open and dry but red from crying.

“How long have you been awake?” Sofia takes hold of Lee’s outstretched hand strokes her thumb over Lee’s bruised knuckles.

“I dunno… 30 hours maybe,” Lee sighs. “I didn’t break anything. Just some bruises and a miscarriage. No big deal.”

“Lee,” Sofia says, sadly, moving her hand up to Lee’s face, wiping at the dried tear tracks.

“Please don’t pity me.”

“I could never,” Sofia says, sternly. “Plenty of people to pity in the world, but you are not one of them, Lee Thompkins.”

“Will you hold me?” Her eyes go wide, pleading, she’s cried dry but she looks as though though tears could spill again any second. 

“Of course.” Sofia slips her shoes and jacket off and goes around to the other side of the bed and slips in behind Lee.

Lee holds onto Sofia’s arm like a lifeline, presses it tight against her chest as she curls into Sofia and Sofia arches around her. 

“I know it’s been three days, but I missed you so much,” Lee whispers. “I don’t--”

She pauses, gulps in a breath of air, as if she’s going to let out a sob.

“I missed you too,” Sofia says. 

“I don’t want to ever be without you,” Lee continues. “I can’t be. I’ve barely spared Jim a thought but to mourn for him as well. It was a boy. I’m not naming him. I know… I was far enough along he’s,” her voice cracks, “a stillborn and…”

“Ssh, Lee, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I can’t name him, but if we could… I don’t know, light a candle, say a few words. Nothing as big as a service. I just need to do something. At least for Jim.”

“Do you want me to call him?”

“No, no, I’ll let Harvey know so he can tell him in person, but I-- I don’t think I want to even think about him for a long while.”

They lay together in silence for a while, breathing together, hearts syncing in rhythm, and then Lee takes in a big breath and pulls Sofia tighter around her.

“Daddy caught me with a woman last night.”

“Are you okay.”

“I’m fine, it doesn’t matter, but…”

“Of course it matters, Sofia,” Lee says. “He’s your father.”

“He doesn’t approve,” Sofia says. “Violently doesn’t approve.”

“Did he--” Lee suddenly turns in Sofia’s arms, anger and worry taking over grief.

“No, no, he didn’t,” Sofia soothes Lee back against her chest. “But I’ve seen what he has done, I’ve heard what he’s said. Always behind closed doors and he finds a way make up a differing excuse but when you know…  _ you know _ .”

She stops, places her hand over Lee’s heart and let’s the beat calm her a moment before saying, “I can’t be without you either.”

“Your father will never hurt you, I won’t let him.”

“ _ I  _ won’t let him hurt  _ you _ . If he so much as looks at you wrong, I will kill him.”

“Sofia,” Lee warns.

“He won’t know though,” Sofia says. “I have to carry on keeping up appearances.”

“Sofia?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“I’m never leaving you again, not for three days, not a day…”

 

It takes weeks. Weeks of Lee crying herself to sleep, shakily moving around her small apartment, drinking bitter black coffee, and sitting in the bathtub as a cold shower beats down on her. Sofia finds her like this in the shower. She lets herself into Lee’s place (she’d coaxed a key out of Lee when Lee refused to come stay at the estate) and hears the shower going and sobs breaking through. She takes Lee out of the tub, wraps her in a towel and brings her to bed. She decides now, Lee has to come stay with her and she won’t take no for an answer. Lee finally agrees and slowly but surely, with the space of house, the spray of the ocean, and Sofia’s companionship, she begins to smile and breathe easy. 

Her sister visits for a few days, enamoured by the sprawling estate on the Floridian cliff, and that’s when Sofia can see that Lee has all but healed. Sofia knows the scar will remain, but she also knows she’ll stay by Lee and provide her the warmth she needs to ease the pain as much as she can. 

When Lee’s sister leaves, Lee sits Sofia down, takes her hand, cups her face, kisses her sweetly. 

“I want us to be together,” Lee says. “Always.”

“So do I,” Sofia says.

“Which is why I have to tell you…” she trails off, squeezes Sofia’s hand and then continues, “my sister says there’s an ME office hiring in Atlanta.”

“Okay.”

“And I’d like to be closer to my sister,” Lee says. “She has kids, she’s a single mom, I think it would be really good for me to be around them. I need to be with my family.”

“You want to move to Atlanta.”

“I want you to come with me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Lee lights up.

“Okay,” Sofia says, and is bombarded by kisses from Lee as she tries to speak through them. “Mario lives in Atlanta.”

“Your brother?” Lee says, between kisses, pulling Sofia over her on the bed. “I thought he was away with Doctors Without Borders.”

“He is, but he’s moving back soon. So, I got to Atlanta and Daddy won’t think anything of it.”

“Okay, perfect, now shut up,” Lee says, tugging at Sofia’s blouse. “It’s been over a month and we haven’t touched each other.”

“You were recovering, I didn’t want to impose,” Sofia says.

“I know,” Lee says. “Makes me love you anymore.”

“You--” Sofia’s breath catches. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“I love you?”

“No.”

“I love you,” Lee repeats.

“I--thank you,” Sofia says, and then mentally kicks herself. “I mean… oh Jesus…”

She climbs off Lee and sits beside her on the bed.

“I understand if you can’t say it,” Lee says. “It doesn’t make me doubt you, I know how you feel.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Sofia takes a moment, closes her eyes and breathes, lets Lee’s words wash over her and then unbuttons her blouse.

“Let me, um,” she grins and then goes to push Lee’s skirt up her thighs.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sofia shuffles between Lee’s legs, and slowly pulls her underwear down and throws them to the side. 

She slides her hands up Lee’s outer thighs, pushing her skirt further up, and starts teasing kisses on her abdomen, mouthing over stretch marks and licking down the patch of pubic hair. When Sofia gets two fingers in her, Lee pulls her t-shirt up and gets a hand on her own breast. Sofia looks up from where she’s stroking slowly in Lee and circling her thumb around Lee’s clit and leans up to move Lee’s hand and take her nipple in her mouth.

It's been a while since Sofia's done this. Taken care of somebody who needed it. She's always been the one who needed to be taken care of, to be laid down, to be loved. But she's fiercely protective of Lee, needs her to feel every inch of it with her hands and her mouth. Lee has been hurt time and time again and Sofia is overwhelmed with the want to take all her pain away. 

She digs her fingers into Lee's thighs as she goes down on her. Nails pushing at the skin and scratching down. Lee gets her fingers tight in Sofia's hair and pushes up against her tongue as she comes. 

Sofia pumps a finger slowly in Lee as she rides it out, breathing hard, and letting her knees spread out in the little aftershocks. 

Afterwards, they lay on the bed half-dressed, smiling at each other, sharing quick kisses and touches. 

Sofia moves close, takes Lee's head in her hand, curling her fingers in Lee's hair.

“You're so beautiful,” Sofia says. “Fuck.”

She smiles, giggles, ducks her head. “Fuck.

Lee kisses her hard and thus begins round two.

 

Waking up together like this for the first time is thrilling. Naked skin to skin, sticky with cooled sweat and blushed pink from each other's warmth. Sofia doesn't want to untangle herself from Lee; she wants to stay wrapped around her all day and drink her in time and time again. And Sofia thinks that maybe in Atlanta it can be that way. It'll be easier to blend in, to be herself, to be out; and she wants that with Lee. She needs that with Lee. 

Sofia's never been in love before, not really, and this is feels step in the right direction. She feels lighter, happier than she has in a long time; and going forward with Lee, it can only get better.

**Author's Note:**

> ps reggie rich is an actual character i pulled from the cauldron of dc and i have plans for him. stay tuned.


End file.
